


Maybe You'll Save Me

by starrelia (orphan_account)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Stalking, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:08:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9262754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/starrelia
Summary: Hanzo has given Genji so many lovely gifts, even if he doesn't know it yet... or maybe even never.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm all done!!!
> 
> Yandere!Genji for Shimadacest week's Free Day!!

Someday… Genji will learn to stop.

 

 

 

 

His fingers intertwine together, his hands are tense in front of him and his hair is slicked back. For once, he looks like the proper image of a business man’s son – even if the business is nothing more than filth. Hanzo sits next to him, looking as beautiful as ever, and Genji’s fingers itch with the need to bring his phone out to take a picture of how beautiful his brother is.

Dressed in a suit, taller than him still, Genji wants to stroke his brother’s cheek. There is nothing more that Genji wants to do than to run his fingers through his brother’s long hair – as beautiful as his mother’s, his poor mother – and he wants to kiss him.

He itches, every part of him itches, and Genji swallows the thick lump in his throat. “Brother?” Hanzo asks when he finally notices Genji staring at him, and he can’t bring himself to look away from his brother’s gentle and beautiful face. “Are you scared?”

“Un.” Genji grunts, and Hanzo smiles at him beautifully then and he reaches out to grab one of his hands. Easily, he separates his hand to grab his brother’s gentle ones – they feel so silky, despite the fact that Genji knows he has been practicing the sword.

“It’s okay.” Hanzo says softly, his gentle voice hushed. “I’ll do all the talking, so you don’t have to do anything. Father only wanted you to come along because he was sick.”

Genji bows his head then, a flush appearing on his cheeks and Hanzo laughs.

“You’re like an angel, anija.” Genji whispers, and Hanzo hums in question. “How do you manage to do this all the time, anija? It’s so boring! I hate it here!” Genji says, louder, to cover up the little reverent whisper, and Hanzo shakes his head.

He’s still holding Genji’s hand, and he makes no move to let go of Hanzo’s as he leads them back to their car. “I got used to it. I don’t think father’ll make you do this, so don’t worry, okay? Let’s just go home, because I really wanna eat.”

The car ride is mostly silent; Hanzo sits on the right side, and Genji in the left, and he watches his brother the entire time they are driving. He dozes off eventually, looking far more relaxed than he does when he is awake, and Genji itches.

Every part of him itches, and he doesn’t understand why. Not just yet.

Home is a quick affair; father whisks Hanzo away after dinner, and Genji plays video games until him and his brother have to go to sleep. He grabs the scissors in his room and silently, carefully, makes his way over to Hanzo’s room.

At the age of twelve, where emotions and crushes start to mingle and love blooms… Genji cuts off a lock of Hanzo’s hair and hides it away somewhere in his room.

* * *

He likes to watch his brother train. Hanzo sweats easily, his face flushing with the heat of training and summer, and Genji watches him with clear interest. He always strips his shirt, even when his trainer tsks at him and demands he puts it back on.

But Genji prefers it more when it’s not on, prefers it more when he can take out his phone and take silent photos of his brother training – shirtless and sweaty, flushed, his skin going red… Genji exhales shakily, his hormones acting up now that he is at that _difficult_ time, and he bites his lower lip.

Everything about his brother is wonderful; everything. Down to the way his body moves, to the way he trains so vigorously and gets hurt. Down to the way he bleeds, to the way he gasps and doubles over when his trainer is too harsh on him.

On one hand, Genji hates the old hag—she’s glaring all the time, mouth set in a snarl, and when she isn’t glaring or snarling then her face is perfectly blank. Yet, he thanks her quietly every day—especially when Hanzo has to be treated by someone and they don’t have anyone on hand.

Genji teaches himself how to treat bruises and cuts, always sits next to his brother and runs his hands all over his body and bites backs sighs and moans. He’s careful not to take too long, longer than necessary at least, and Genji digs his teeth into his lower lip.

“Are you worried, Genji?” Hanzo says, his voice gruffer and sterner than from years ago. He sounds more like father, no longer sounding so sweet and kind, but he doesn’t doubt that the old Hanzo is still there.

And… and if he…

“Mhm.” Genji hums. “You’re always so hurt after training, anija! Of course I’m worried! What if I have to train with that old haaaaag!? Then I’ll end up like you too.”

Hanzo ruffles Genji’s hair, a whisper of a smile on his face before it disappears immediately. “You have to do what is best for the clan, Genji. But, thank you for caring for me when the others are busy.” He bites his lower lip harder, nearly to the point that it bleeds, but luckily Hanzo isn’t looking when he does that.

“I want to be useful to the family.” Genji lies easily, putting aside bloody cotton pads and he swallows loudly—or so it sounds it to his ears. “I want to make you proud, anija.”

“You will.” Hanzo says before he stands up once he has been treated, and Genji collects the trash and stands up. “I will go meet with father. “ Is what he says, before he turns and leaves – having dressed up – and Genji looks at the bloody cotton pads in his hands.

He sneaks away and stashes them away in his little box of gifts, puts the cotton pads with the rest of them and with the few locks of his brother’s hair… and smiles.

* * *

The idea comes to Genji when he comes to put away his dirty laundry. He sees a pile of Hanzo’s dirty clothes, sees his briefs – stained, slightly, and Genji’s breath hitches – and the impulse rises. He looks at his own laundry basket, mouth gaping open slightly, and he struggles with himself not to do anything.

But… those are Hanzo’s stained briefs. He licks his lips at the thought, eyes wide and his body trembles. It takes all his strength to put his basket down next to Hanzo’s, and it takes even less convincing to swipe the briefs away and ball them up in his hands.

His face is burning red, and Genji keeps his head bowed down and his pace quick as he practically runs back to his room. None of the servants dare question why Genji is in such a hurry, having learned better than to question their masters unless the head of the family comes for them, and he nearly rips his door off.

Nearly slipping and falling in his rush to slide the door open, Genji laughs as he slides down and presses his brother’s briefs against his face.

His heart is beating quickly, more so than every other time that he has snuck into his brother’s room to cut off a lock of his hair, and Genji gasps at the adrenaline coursing through him. He inhales deeply, trembling, and he finally stands to stash the briefs away.

Genji’s little collection is growing – both on his phone, with all the pictures, and in the box – and he’s sure that he’s going to have to get a new box soon. Delicately, he folds the briefs and puts it in the box and the excitement has yet to wear away.

Someday… he will gather up the courage to take the ultimate gift, and his eyes slip shut at the fantasy that that conjures.

 

 

He loves his brother, so.


End file.
